Luns for Laughs: The Creation of This Old Datacenter

Behind the scenes with This Old Data Center

After almost a year after the launch, I feel like it's time to return to where it began. While you may or may not have seen This Old Datacenter (yet), I learned some incredible lessons while building what turned out to be a long-shot success.

I would love to tell you that some incredible marketing think tank churned out what was a whimsical look into something extremely ordinary; it was the exact opposite. It was just a joke: a few glasses of wine with the extended team, a passion for flannel, and the beards that shaped our collective childhood. We made jokes about how close the home improvement shows of yesteryear could be applied. We had more than a few laughs; some of those jokes even made the final cut. As I often do, I took much of that concept and applied pen to paper. How do we make these work, not just come together to have fun, but deliver the message and get people to watch it? I quietly built out what would be the framework for a short television show we could use to get people excited about something very ordinary. 

While initial passes were met with a resounding "yes," it wasn't enough to get lift-off; it had to have some higher support to get exactly what we wanted with little to no interference. Once the initial concept was baked, I had to take a personal interest in selling the idea. It's nice to have marketing say, "That's so funny we should do that" but supporting the concept is a whole different thing. I spent a few more happy hours with high-level partner marketing and communications teammates and pitched the idea in detail. I sprinkled in the high-level concept and the details of its birth and shared a few jokes. Again, it was met with a resounding "yes." I believe the words used were, "I don't care what it costs; we are doing this," at that moment, I had just enough extra energy to run. So, we flew.

We had to fit a very large-scale project into a concise window. The team was up against a make-or-break deadline, and we had a significant partner event around the corner where we would have all the folks we needed in the same place at the same time. But that meant we would need to book the crew, recruit the talent, and secure the space in only a few weeks. Even more, we had to shoot it in one day. Impossible? Not totally, but…. close. Once we decided collectively we were going for it, we decided there was no turning back. Book it all, and we will figure it out. We declined to script it, which had its own set of risks, but based on a happy hour, my co-worker and I had all the chemistry and style we needed to shoot from the hip. The major unknown was whether anyone else would keep up. Mind you, these are technical folks; they know their stuff but aren't known for creative work, especially a comedic take on their livelihood. After asking a few folks we knew could at least make a solid attempt, they all said yes without hesitation. Now, I was starting to get excited; the energy was growing little by little every day, and these were the pieces we needed to know something extraordinary was about to happen. 

Once the day came, I was called into our studio for the day. It was nothing more than a 12x12ft room with far too many people in it and even more lighting. I was initially shocked to see four chairs against a green screen. This was different from the vision. Luckily, I had been obsessing over this idea for months. I had a vision, and it was up to me to present it, so I went to my truck and pulled out all my home construction equipment. It was an entire job site I brought as props, sawhorses, 2x4s, and even some working data center equipment. The production team was very accommodating. After flipping over a few tables and setting up, they began to see the vision. It was the moment we went from stuffy corporate video to something you might see on Saturday Night Live. I received a nod from the team for art direction, and at that point, my confidence swelled, knowing we had the best version possible.

 Showtime. One by one, we called each guest of the show into the room, which ranged from VP level to individual contributor, but these were our folks. They got it immediately, and being unscripted, we had to run as fast as possible. Each episode was done in one take; if I recall, only two needed more, and it was due to the laughter from the production team or the folks waiting their turn. It was hilarious, much didn't make the show, but what did was genuine. Every single one of those moments was as real as it gets; the laughs were side-splitting, and it hardly felt like work. We ended up shooting nine episodes in about 8 hours; we had planned for seven but added two since word had gotten out about what we were doing and a few high-level folks requested to be involved.

I suppose much of the hard work was done. A labor of laughter was now at the mercy of the editor to take what we gave them and spin gold. I assumed this might take some time, but the initial pass was only a few weeks; as it turns out, we shot it well enough fast enough that the editing wasn't all that difficult. Major props to them for the intro they made up and nailed. We had the thumbs up to move forward. Some initial screens were met with tears of laughter and quite a few deep sighs of disappointment, but this was it; we had exactly what we set out to get. I did not realize that the entire campaign was being built quietly around the concept in the background. Social media was involved, and we had the series as a cornerstone of trade booths for every event after its launch; it had evolved into a movement. I was mainly shocked seeing it on Loop, our booth for our partner conference. I was more shocked when a few people came up to see us and shared how amazing they thought it was. Once the VP of my organization told me she watched it and loved it, I was more than taken aback. Marketing was flooded with numerous other partner requests to do an episode, but they had to tell them "no"; they lacked the energy and charisma of the hosts, and that simply could not be replicated.

A year later, these videos still show up here and there. I laugh and think back to every moment that led to each one; I smile at each joke made off-screen and will never forget making each of my co-workers cry tears of laughter at some point. I was lucky not only to pull it off but also to be proud of each person involved. There is no way the project would have gone anywhere if it were for a deeply connected team of people who had the same vision and bet big. It was an incredible lesson in detail and passion that I will never forget and the message I would send to others. Not everyone has to love it, but if a few really love it, it is all worth it.